The Time Dean's Attempt to Find the Internet Went (Horribly) Wrong
by abbzeh
Summary: Dean's attempt to find a WiFi network that isn't password protected doesn't quite go as planned. In fact, it all goes really wrong. Spoilers for DW: 7x06 (The Bells of Saint John).


_A/N: This is literally me writing out of boredom. It's also my first attempt at writing anything for Supernatural, which I adore in case you didn't know. It hurts me so much, but I love it. And Doctor Who is my first TV fandom love. I was bound to write something for the SuperWhoLock thing eventually. Except this is just SuperWho. Also, how amazing was last night's Doctor Who? I so ship Eleven and Clara. Although I did love all the parallels to Rose as well._

* * *

'Hey, Sam!' Dean called to Sam before the latter could shut the door to their motel room. Sam turned and looked at his brother, eyebrow raised. 'Don't forget the pie.'

'I know, I know,' Sam said, hands raised as he backed out of the door, rolling his eyes before he shut the door behind himself. Dean listened to the sound of Sam's footsteps disappearing down the hallway before reaching across the table and grabbing the laptop. Opening it, he waited impatiently for the thing to start up. Absently, he looked around the room, taking in the dull brown walls and the generic Bible on the bedside table. Turning back to the laptop, he saw that it had fully started up, and he quickly entered the password. Tapping his finger impatiently against his thigh, he waited for the main desktop to make an appearance.

As soon as it was up, Dean looked towards the WiFi button, and saw that it wasn't connected to anything. Clicking on it, he saw a few different networks appear, nearly all of them being secure. He frowned. How the hell did Sam always manage to get WiFi, no matter where they were staying? It was like he was the one who had sold his soul, only he had sold it for unlimited wireless internet. Sighing, Dean scrolled through the networks, pausing when he came to one that wasn't password protected.

┓┏ **凵 **_(A/N: Okay, so FF,net is refusing to show the symbols.)_

Tilting his head slightly in curiosity, he clicked on it, and clicked connect. Almost immediately, more networks with similar names appeared. There was a niggle of suspicion in Dean's mind as he stared at them, but it was almost immediately pushed back by the thought that he'd managed to find them free internet. He grinned as he opened the internet browser, immediately going to search for anything that might help them with this latest case.

Behind him, he heard the door open, and slow footsteps enter the room. Dean turned in his chair, resting one elbow on the backrest and stared up at Sam, eyebrow raised. Sam had said he was going to that shop before he left the room, so why didn't he have any bags with him?

'Dude, I thought you were going to the shop?' Dean asked, gesturing at Sam's empty hands. Sam's expression didn't change.

'I was going to the shop,' Sam said, his voice oddly monotone. That was odd. Dean stood up, frowning now as he stared at Sam.

'So, what are you doing back here?' he asked, hand already reaching for his gun.

'I am back here.' That same monotonous voice again.

And then Sam's head started to look the other way, towards the wall on his left side. But his head didn't stop turning; it carried on, going until his face was looking behind him, and Dean was looking at a cylindrical dish in the back of Sam's head. Dean stared at it, wide eyed. That... really shouldn't be there. There was not supposed to be a dish on the back of his brother's head. That was just new levels of weird. As he stared at it, the dish started to glow, and suddenly, there was nothing.

And yet Dean could still somehow look around, still feel terror because _this was nowhere._

At least when he'd been in Hell, he'd been aware of where he was. Granted, he'd been aware of everything happening to him, but this... This was so much worse. He looked around again, feeling the panic set in.

'Sam!' he yelled desperately, looking around again, as though that would help. 'Help! Sammy!' And this was definitely worse than Hell. 'I don't know where I am!'

* * *

Sam lugged the shopping bags back to the room where he and Dean were staying, being careful to not get the pie squashed by anything else. Dean would murder him if anything happened to his pie. Sam rolled his eyes at the thought. Honestly, the way Dean went on about it, you'd think he was married to the thing.

He stopped in their hallway, eyes narrowing as he saw that their door was open. Hadn't he shut the door when he'd left for the shop? He hadn't exactly been gone long, not long enough for Dean to sneak off somewhere. He walked towards it slowly, and peaked his head through the door.

And promptly dropped the bags. Because staring back at him was his own face, that was also facing the wrong way. Sam quickly entered the room, and looked around wildly. His eyes landed on Dean, lying sprawled on the floor, and Sam felt his heart drop from his chest.

'Dean!' he immediately shouted, running towards him and dropping to the ground beside him. He pressed a hand to Dean's neck, feeling desperately for a pulse. There wasn't one. Sam felt his heart stop completely for a moment as he stared at his brother's expressionless face. He breathed unsteadily, trying to keep from the panic attack that was welling up inside him. No, this wasn't happening. Not again.

'Sam!' Sam looked up sharply, hearing Dean's panicked voice. Dean still hadn't moved. Dean was still dead. Again. But Sam had heard Dean's voice. 'Help me!'

Sam looked towards the source of the sound, and he saw the replica of himself still standing in the doorway. He'd forgotten about that in the wake of Dean's... well, he'd lost count of how many times Dean had died, actually. All he knew that it was over a hundred times, even if only one of them still resonated in his mind. Sam stood up and looked at whatever-it-was standing in the doorway, and nearly fell over again.

There was a cylindrical dish in the back of the head, facing the way the face should be, and from inside the dish was Dean, shouting desperately, 'I don't know where I am!' over and over again.

Before he was even aware of what he was doing, Sam was diving into the pocket of his jacket and dialling Garth's number. Sam held the phone to his ear, tapping his fingers against the table whilst looking at Dean, then looking back at whatever had Dean trapped inside.

'Come on, come on,' he muttered into the phone, listening to it ring on and on until finally -

'Hello?'

'Garth!' Sam burst out, relief seeping into his tone. 'Listen, we've sort of run into a problem-'

'-does it involve someone with a spoon built into the back of their head?' came Garth's voice from down the line. Sam glanced at the replica of himself.

'Yeah. But how did you know?' Sam asked, confused now. How could Garth have known about this?

'It's been happening all over the place,' Garth explained. 'People dropping dead for no apparent reason. The only thing that connected them was the fact that they were all near a device that has WiFi, and that they'd connected to the same WiFi. How'd you find out about this, anyway?'

Sam swallowed, looking at Dean again. 'Dean. He's just. He's dead,' he choked on the final word. He'd hoped, after the last time, that he'd never have to say those two words about Dean again.

'Okay,' came Garth's voice through the phone again. 'Can you go on your laptop, and look at the wireless network?' Sam quickly moved, barely avoiding tripping over Dean's too-still body, and moved the laptop so that it was facing him. 'What's it connected to?'

Sam looked, clicking on the WiFi button, and he frowned at the name. 'It's just a jumble of weird symbols,' he said, trying to decipher what they were and having very little progress in that department.

Garth sighed. 'I thought so.' Sam heard movement coming from the other side of the line, and the sound of keys being clicked quickly. 'I've got someone on it already, Sam. They know what they're doing. He's called the Doctor, and he'll fix this.'

Sam sighed this time, resting his forehead against his free hand. 'How can you be so sure?' he asked, feeling that deep seated despair as he looked at Dean again. He couldn't lose his brother, not again.

'Because I trust him,' was Garth's only reply. 'Just wait.'

And so Sam sat in the too-silent room for God knows how long, the silence only broken by the terrified pleading of, '_I don't know where I am_!' occasionally with a thrown in, '_Sam_!' coming from the dish-spoon-head thing. He tried desperately hard not to listen to it, because it hurt to hear Dean panicking. To hear Dean sounding so scared, and knowing he couldn't help.

After some time – Sam didn't know how long. He'd stopped keeping track of the time eventually – the dish started glowing again. Suddenly, the a beam of light shot out, directly at Dean's face. Sam moved to try and pull Dean away from the light, but as quickly as it had started, it was over. There was suddenly a hacking cough coming from on the floor, and Sam looked down at Dean. Dean was spluttering, even though he remained unconscious. Sam pressed his fingers to Dean's neck again, and almost fainted in relief when he felt the slightly unsteady, but definitely there, pulse beneath his fingers.

Slumping on the floor, he raised his head and looked towards the ceiling, smiling. He felt a burst of hysterical laughter bubble up inside his chest, and he let it out. It must be the shock, part of his mind wondered absently. Maybe he needed a blanket. Well, he amended, after he got Dean one. Dean was the one who had died, after all.

Hefting Dean onto his bed wasn't exactly easy, Sam learned after he'd managed it and stood panting against the wall. He went out into the hallway again and picked up the shopping bags and quickly brought them into the room, sorting through what he'd bought. He decided that he'd leave Dean some beer and his partially squashed pie for when he woke up, and he sat down on his own bed. Sam knew from experience that when Dean didn't eat when he woke up, he'd be grouchy and generally unbearable to be around.

And Sam imagined it would probably be worse for when he's just come back from the dead.

Sam briefly considered calling for Cas. He'd want to know about this, about Dean's recent death, and since it was about Dean, he'd come running anyway. Even if it was Sam doing the calling. On the other hand, the logical part of Sam's mind reasoned, Cas would probably already know about this anyway. He was the one, after all, who had casually mentioned that he and Dean had a 'profound bond'.

Sam smirked as he got up from his bed, shaking his head. Oblivious idiots.

* * *

_A/N: So, how was it? Was it atrocious? I really should have put more thought into this, but I didn't. Also, if you can spot the tiny Sherlock reference, you get a cupcake. Also, please review?_


End file.
